


Nimaya

by avani



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Fix-It, Gen, MiM Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 23:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avani/pseuds/avani
Summary: “Father,” Bhalla croaks, and the man before him lets his mouth relax into a smile.





	Nimaya

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrimmStormborn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmStormborn/gifts).



“Bhalla!”

The hand shaking him from slumber is as gentle as the voice with it is harsh and cracked. Bhalla’s eyes spring open at the unfamiliar sound: one of his soldiers come to warn him of an attack, perhaps, or even an invader? 

But the face that peers back at him is known to him, if only from portraits, and Bhalla’s mouth goes dry. “Father,” he croaks, and the man before him lets his mouth relax into a smile.

“And who else would dare rouse my fearsome son?” There is real affection in Bijjaladeva’s voice, and Bhalla’s heart races. A second chance, an opportunity to know the father who died when Bhalla was not one year old--he blesses the gods for their mercy. 

His father remains oblivious to Bhalla’s wonder, and only shakes his shoulder again with his arm--the healthy one, Bhalla remembers from his mother’s stories. “Now hurry up and rise. My spies inform me that Devasena and her women have already set out for the temple, and that fool Baahubali gone hunting with the Kuntalan half-wit. Sethupathy waits in position already, and the witnesses he’s paid off, too.”

He leans closer. It’s strange; all Bhalla’s fantasies of his father somehow never included the stench of strong drink on his breath. “All we are missing,” hisses Bijjaladeva, “is your presence, Your Majesty.”

A long moment passes before Bhalla blinks. “ _ Your Majesty _ ?”

*

Bhalla does not have very long to consider what series of unfortunate events could have led his counterpart to be burdened with the throne. For an instant, he worries that Baahu might be dead; but no, he reassures himself, his father had mentioned Bhalla’s brother in passing. No, it must only be that Baahu had been blessed with common sense in this world if not any other.

That is all he is able to ponder before one of his guards interrupts apologetically to announce that there is a case that he must try: the Queen Mother insists that it must be done so urgently, as is fitting for so...unconventional a circumstance. Bhalla wonders at that, too, until he enters the throne room to find his sister-in-law staring back at him, surrounded by soldiers. 

“Lost your temper and murdered someone at last, have you?” Bhalla demands, exasperated but not entirely surprised. “Well, don’t look to me to defend you to Baahu.”

Devasena only glares at him, which, if Bhalla is honest with himself, he supposes he might deserve. He opens his mouth to offer--not an apology; even this universe, bizarre though it is, cannot expect such a thing of him--but his father only pokes him in the back impatiently. “Take your seat, my son!”

Bhalla looks longingly at his customary seat in the room, far enough from the rabble to avoid having to listen to their prattle and far enough from the dais that no one actually expects him to make any decisions, before reluctantly ascending the steps before him. The throne is even more uncomfortable than it has always appeared, and Bhalla wonders if he can’t demand a cushion before the proceedings must commence. 

But then the soldiers fall back behind Devasena, and it is Bhalla’s turn to stare. “Why has she been placed in chains?”

Devasena, mouth already open to complain, presses her lips together abruptly. “Because,” she snarls, “this is what passes for justice in your kingdom.”

Perhaps the situation is more grave than he has assumed. “I was,” Bhalla says slowly, “only joking about you murdering someone.” He considers. “Mostly.”

“Your Majesty!” A man, his hand covered in bandages, steps forward, looking aghast. Sethupathy, a dim childhood memory reminds Bhalla. “I still live!”

“That’s that problem solved, then,” says Bhalla, and vaguely feeling a more formal resolution might be necessary, adds: “This court is hereby dismissed.” Now, to see if being King precludes him going to the training field and testing his might….

“Bhalla!” His father stands, and Bhalla slumps back into the throne, thwarted. “The wife of Baahubali has publically attacked and maimed your loyal Commander-in-Chief! Is that all you have to say on the matter, O King?”

A faint sense of lingering annoyance is also something he had never before thought to associate with his father. “Of course not--did you say Commander-in-Chief?”

His father beams. “Of course! Did you not yourself demote Baahubali from the post days previous?”

So Baahu managed to evade that responsibility, as well! Bhalla seethes at the unfairness of it all, but turns his attention reluctantly back to the matter at hand. “As I was saying, in my experience, my sister-in-law usually has a reason for her fits of senseless violence. So what was it, Devasena?”

His sister-in-law, at the moment, cannot respond, being occupied gaping at him. She is not the only one; his mother is equally lost for words. Still, it’s not often he manages to silence Devasena. Bhalla thinks he could grow accustomed to this. 

“The women were all made to stand aside at the Shiva temple,” Devasena says at last, “so that the Commander-in-Chief could place his hands on them as they walked by. He tried to do the same with  me--and so I cut off his fingers.”

“If he couldn’t defend himself against a single attacker outside of battle,” reasons Bhalla aloud, “he likely wasn’t the best choice for Commander-in-Chief. Better to discover that sooner rather than later. And so--” he remembers belatedly “--the Princess is free to go. Release her from her chains.”

A uproar erupts from the other end of the hall; predictably, only now has Baahu come charging to the defense of his beloved. Bhalla studies him sourly, thinking that it must be nice to be able to take oneself off hunting, even if it did come at the cost of dealing with one’s idiotic in-laws, at the merest whim.

When Baahu reaches his wife, it is to find her wide-eyed, rubbing her empty wrists. Baahu staggers to a stop, seeming every bit as stunned. 

“I—“

“And where,” snaps Bhalla, “have you been?” It is cruel enough of Baahu to leave Bhalla with the crown, particularly when he is the one with the patience to listen to the pathetic complaints of the people, without compounding it by looking at him with such confusion. If Bhalla had anything to say about it—

…And come to think of it, why not? He is King, after all.

“Such indolence is unforgivable in one of royal blood,” he proclaims. “In recompense, I demand you take up more responsibility.” Possibly that is too subtle; better to clarify. “Namely, mine.”

Baahu and Devasena stare at each other, slack-jawed, and then at him. Mother gets to her feet. 

“Bhalla! The proclamation of a new king is not your decision to make!”

“True.” Bhalla shrugs and gets to his feet. “But it is my right to abdicate in favor of my closest blood relative, who happens to be Baahu.” No one reacts, and Bhalla fights the urge to roll his eyes. Must he do everything himself?

He strides down the steps, removes the crown, and places it squarely on Baahu’s head, feeling lighter already. “Congratulations.”

With a last sympathetic clap of his brother’s shoulder, Bhalla plans his escape. After such a tiring morning, Baahu can hardly begrudge him the loss of at least a few bulls from the royal herds. Much as  _ he _ wants only to parade around amusing himself as Baahu has certainly been doing, he supposes he ought to take up the now-vacant post of Commander-in-Chief. Perhaps that will shame Baahu into not being so lazy and consequently requiring so much of him--

“Bhalla!”

He fights back a groan at the urgent shout. Strange to think that he had once mourned the lack of a father; he is beginning to suspect he had no idea how fortunate he was.

“What are you doing, you fool?”

“Exactly what I please,” replies Bhalla cheerfully, and leaves his father behind.

**Author's Note:**

> * Nimaya - Sanskrit; barter or exchange.
> 
> * Sivagami's role in this fic is limited, largely due to the fact that I wanted to keep the focus more strongly on the other characters. If, however, you still wonder why she remains silent for so much of it, I can only guess that she's still in shock. 
> 
> *For everyone concerned about the fate of canon! Bhalla, I am happy to inform you that after waking up in the alternative universe where Bijjaladeva died young, Bhalla skulked around half-heartedly plotting before realizing that this universe, where his mother, brother, and sister-in-law all loved him, was vastly superior to his own. And so they all lived happily ever after (except Bijju, but oh well!)


End file.
